Wing Commander, The Furry Conflict: Defiance
by Chaser617
Summary: Wow, long name eh? Well, as the first entry I've posted in three years, I'm putting up a true 'fanfiction' work. Based roughly (and I do mean roughly) on Chris Robert's Wing Commander, and using anthromorphic (ie 'Furry) characters that belong to friend
1. Chapter 1

_**Wing Commander, The Furry Conflict: Defiance**_

The Wing Commander Universe, and the Kilrathi, are © Chris Roberts and Electronic Arts Entertainment, I am in no way, shape, or form associated with EA or any of its subsidiaries. While the Wing Commander Universe is the inspiration for this story, it has been highly modified from its original form by the author.

VF-33rd 'Starfighters is an actual USN F-14 Tomcat Squadron retired in 1992

Sher _narr_ Khal'Saad is © John Robinson

Zannah Lyles is © Ashley Holohan

Marcuso Xaiver is © Julius Harper

Admiral Allen Rikes and Paul van Arragon, Lieutenants Felippe Gerringer, Chaser 'Goliath' McLoude and Krystal McLoude © Shawn Tigges

KILRATHI GEMINI SECTOR HEADQUARTERS

K'LRATH SYSTEM

GEMINI SECTOR FRONT LINES

1022 HOURS, CONFEDERATE STANDARD TIME (CST)  
OCTOBER 12th 2565AD

Lord _Kalralarh_ Sher _narr_ Khal'Saad let a soft, menacing rumble escape from his throat as he looked out the large observation viewports of the main command deck of the starbase he commanded. "The reports?"

A young Lahrss, probably only two-eights and three cycles old bowed, trying not to grovel. This one had backbone Sher thought as he could see the dim reflection. Better than most those that were sent to him. "The _J'kra_ has just come into dock m'lord _Kalralarh_, she will be... five months in repair."

Sher let the rumble grow. "Five months?"

"Yes m'lord, and, her escorts _G'rank_, Fellara and the cruiser _T'klar_ were lost as well."

"And the canine's losses?"

The lynx still did not look up but his reply was sharp quick, and strong. "Two destroyers lost, a cruiser heavily damaged, two battle-carriers lightly damaged. The system of 'New Scotland' was not touched."

Ser nearly roared at that, but he kept his raged in him, letting it fuel him. "So little damage?"

"The canines had four battle-carriers and their accompanying claws in orbit at the time to commit to action. _J'kra_ was, lucky to survive."

"And her captain?"

"Dead m'lord, upon the order of the Crown Prince."

Sher turned, his eyes burning with rage, the strips of his tiger pattern, noble, royal marking stood out as his fur seemed to darken around them. "How?"

"He was ordered to take, _Zu'kara_, to atone for his failure."

"All personnel, leave the command deck," Sher's deep voice softly ordered, the tone more terrifying than any yell and the kil manning the consoles performing traffic control and sector intelligence work fled quickly, though it was against regulations to abandon the command deck. All but the _Lahrss_ that delivered the report were gone in moments.

"That _zivat_!!!" Sher finally let loose with all the fury he felt. "One claw, one claw against four complete claws? An entire striking hand?"

"New Scotland is a major repair and refit station for the canine fleet m'lord. That was why the Prince ordered it attacked."

"Attacked with a single carrier claw. It had no hope of survival against such ods, and he orders her _Khantahr_ to take _Zu'kara_ because he did not complete objectives that were impossible."

"Lord _Khantahr_ _naar_ Nigita was clan Nagit'aga." The _Lahrss_ announced evenly."

Sher rumbled. "I thought as much... _zivat_!!!" he cursed again. "I do not care for the fool's rivalries. I care that he uses poorly dispatched orders to detach one of my best carrier claws into a pointless battle just to rid himself of a opponent!!!" the last part of the statement came out in a furious roar.

All throughout the young officer did not flinch, or move from his position, he held a firm, but respectfully submissive stance as was required of a lower officer to his commander. "Sire, what you speak is treason."

Sher _harrumphed_ and turned back to the view port. "Treason, no, it is only treason because that feeble old kil on the throne decreed such words against him and his family treason. They are loosing the war for us."

"Sire..."

"It is true, the feeble old kil and his incompetent grandson are loosing this war," Sher rumbled as he walked back away from the view ports. "Gemini sector could be taken, yet they squander resources in Vega, breaking our strength against the strong fortified wall of the Confederation when there is a week gate here to be exploited," Sher announced as he looked at the holographic map of the front lines, spread across three sectors of space, what the Terrans called the Vega, Enigma and Gemini Sectors.

"'The only victory is the hardest fought victory'," the young _Lahrss_ announced citing a passage from the Book of Sivar, the Kilrathi's most sacred of religious books. The passage was one quite popular in the courts on the Homeworld, and one quite misused. It was obvious by the tone in the young officer's voice what he felt for the Prince, and it was not a favorable tone.

"And 'The fool's plan leads to disaster and ruin'," Sher quoted his own favored passage. "Sivar dose not call for us to foolishly attack strength for strength, we need to strike hard, where they are weak," he frowned looking at the holomap, he studied it for several moments before finally pointing and tracing a line down from the frontline in Gemini. "H'grath, to Lmara, Cresena, and you take this jump, this long jump here and you destroy their 'Allentown' System's supply points, bomb the civilian manufacturing on that planet, and here, and New Berlin, and here at Troy. Destroy those three points, and New Scotland, Naval Station McArthur, and Port Sydney all fall, and without those, the confederation front in this sector crumbles, leaving their home sector open to us."

Sher concentrated on the map, looking at the small flashing lights scattered here and there, scrolling Kilrathi script announcing the ships those points represented, known positions of Terran forces. "What are our assets?"

"As I sad, _J'kra_ will be moon cycles in repair. The _Klrith_, _Mgyar_ and _K'ilar_ claws are in port, along with the _Kro'la'ath_ and her escorts," the last name translated literally into English as 'Rage's Hammer' though in the Kilrathi it had many more nuances. The ship served as Sher's flagship while away from the sector base. "All other claws are on station along the front."

"I want all claws available ready to sortie at the end of moon cycle. That includes all replenishment groups attached to the claws, we will win this war in spite of the Prince, and I will bring the rubble of Terra with me when I return in victory over the canines."


	2. Chapter 2

CIVILIAN VESSEL _WINDRIDER_

BEYOND THE ORGIT OF K'LRATH VI

K'LRATH SYSTEM  
GEMINI SECTOR FRONT LINES  
1430 HOURS CST  
OCTOBER 12, 2565

Zannah Lyles frowned as she floated from the back compartment of her _Centurion_-class picket ship and into the command couch, artificial gravity a luxury a vessel of her size did not have. The fox nearly growled as she looked at all the data scrolling over her display. She had taken this contract because it seemed like easy money, sneak in, drift through the outer portion of the system gathering SigInt or signals intelligence through a nifty little gadget that the Confederation had provided her to install in her ship, and then sneak out again.

What the blasted intelligence snob had neglected to tell her was that the jump point he had provided for her navicomputer was the entrance vector for a pirate Jump Point into the bloody Gemini sector command for the Kilrathi!!

She sighed as she slowly powered up her maneuvering systems. No changing that now she knew. Best thing to do was get out of here, collect her money, then pay the intelligence weenie a visit to put him out of her misery.

The problem was, getting out. The Kilrathi were no fools, that was for sure, especially after loosing their Enigma Sector HQ a couple months back to the 6th Fleet when they had sent a small detachment of fighters through a pirate point to recon, for the fleet. They had littered this system with remote sensors, her passive detection gear, another present from ConFed for another mission she had performed was picking them up by the droves. The pirate Jump Point she had used had been actually inside the gravity well of K'Lrath VII, another reason she wanted to get her hands on Lieutenant Felippe Gerringer. The gas giant had masked her entry, but almost tore the _Windrider_ to shreds exiting in the gravimetric shear. It had however, given her ship the slight kick it had needed to drift through system powered down so none of the inferred detection systems would ping her.

Unfortunately as soon as she lit up her main drive, her heat corona would show up like a beacon to any sensor within range, and with hyper-burst com arrays attached to each, the Kilrathi would know about her in moments, and would have a flight of fighters detailed to bring her in, if they were feeling generous. Hopefully though firing her maneuvering thrusters would not be an adverse effect. With her hydrogen ram scoops closed, she didn't have to worry about the drag the energy fields created as they sucked in the stray atoms needed to fuel her ships fusion reactor. With them closed, her ship maneuvered through Newtonian physical laws in space, with them open, they had the strange effect of creating an almost atmospheric like drag to allow her to maneuver her ship as if it were an atmosphere.

She sighed as she looked at her computer display, a fighter base within striking range of her exit Jump Point did not make her happy, but she really didn't have a choice. "Computer, activate main drive," she ordered through the voice command options she had installed on the ship as she gripped the control stick and throttle.

There was only a slight chirp from the computer in acknowledgement of the command but she could feel the _Windrider_ come to life around her. Equipped with over-sized engines for a ship of her class, she was just as fast if a little more sluggish than some of ConFed's best fighters. And she would need that speed here and now as she saw warning lights going off on her threat display even as she jammed the throttle full forward and smashed her finger onto the afterburner button, shoving her into her seat as the inertial damper tried to keep up.

Unfortunately the Kilrathi were better prepared than she thought, two _Krant_-class fighters had been on patrol coasting through the system just as she had been, so her sensor package hadn't picked them up, just as theirs had likely not detected her either. However as soon as she lit her drive, she had flared into life on those sensors and the _Krants_ had given chase, alerting Zannah to their presence.

She growled looking at her display, thirty seconds to her Jump Point, twenty till the _Krants_ reached her, not good odds, especially since she would have to slow down for the jump. Taking a Jump at more than a hundred KPS was considered a suicide act among most sane spacers.

"Computer, activate tail turret, set targeting to Armageddon Mode," Zannah ordered as she felt her muzzle curl a bit. The computer again chirped in a positive as she felt through her command couch the shudder of the twin mass gatling weapons in her rear turret firing. While not the most powerful of weapons known to Terrans, one thing could be said for mass gatlings, the filled space with tiny shards traveling at high relativistic speeds, making them extremely dangerous to anything flying into said space. With her rear turret locked into computer controlled 'Armageddon Mode' a term carried over from twentieth century naval warfare, the onboard tracking system automatically picked out what it believed to be the most dangerous threat and engaged it first, and continued to engage it until it was dead, or a new, more imminent threat appeared. Personally, Zannah didn't trust it all that much, but, she didn't have a second crew member needed to man the guns, and there was no way she was going to let the computer pilot the _Windrider_ while she manned the rear turret.

Fortunately for her, these pilots must have been new recruits or unfamiliar with the _Centurion_ design. The computer in a nanosecond decided that the leader of the wing pair was the more dangerous of the two fighters, tracked in, and opened fire with the guns in the turret. The Kilrathi pilot didn't even have time to react as the mass shards filled the space his fighter was flying through. His shields held for the briefest of moments before they collapsed in a shimmering rainbow effect and the mass shards tore into the hull of his fighter. The unlucky pilot was shredded in his cockpit as his canopy was shattered. No more intelligence at the controls of the fighter it kept on its coarse, flying straight into the turret fire till a series of shards penetrated the fusion reactor annihilating the fighter in a brief but spectacular fireball.

That explosion clouded the _Windrider's_ rear sensors so the turret couldn't track the second target. It gave the now lone _Krant_ time to get off a shot in return, however, he didn't bother with his guns, he had two Image Recognition or IR missiles loaded on his fighter and his computer had a lock, he triggered off one. The computer, upon realizing there was a missile inbound screeched at Zannah through a warning tone to evade as the turret tried to track in on what it now classified as the most dangerous threat. However, a missile moved infinitely faster even in modern space combat than a fighter and the first burst missed the missile and it found its target exploding against Zannah's shields.

If they had been recon fighter spec shields like most _Centurions_ carried, Zannah would have been free-floating atoms most likely at the moment. However, she had spent money upgrading her shields, along with the rest of her craft and now, was simply sent tumbling off coarse with sparks flying around her. She growled wrench the controls about, willing them to obey her as she brought her ship back on course. She took a look at the display, and knew she wouldn't make it to the jump in time to keep from being plastered by the _Krant_. So, she did the one thing the pilot most likely would not have expected.

Windrider's spaceframe howled in protest as Zannah treated her like the fighter she almost was. As she brought the ship around in a tight hard burning loop she brought her forward guns online. A quad mount of powerful tachyon cannons, the weapons drew so much power from the blaster generators that she only had a few seconds worth of firepower at her disposal before the generators were drained and had to flash charge. A few seconds was all she needed however as she lined the crosshairs up on the _Krant_ who was at the moment pulling high and to port of his previous path, trying to evade the now head on attack from the _Windrider_. Zannah gave a sly smile as her finger gently squeezed the trigger and let loose with the tachyon cannons.

The effects were telling in moments. While based upon particles that normally traveled faster than light, the burst from the tachyon guns traveled just slow enough to show up as brilliant spears reaching out for the _Krant_. The burst ignored the shields as if they were not even there and the front portion of the fighter crumpled then sheared away, killing the pilot as the rest continued on a ballistic path out of the system.

Zannah sighed as she pulled back on her throttle and brought _Windrider_ back towards her jump. Good she thought no targets on scopes, which meant no one was close enough to get to her before the jump. After she jumped, she could orient herself to her next Jump Point, power down the drives and cost along like a good little piece of space debris, the sensor baffling systems she had had installed aboard would make it hard for anyone other than a SWACS craft to pick her up, and even then Gerringer had said that an SWACS would need to point a high-energy scan pulse at her in order to pick her up. Granted, she didn't trust the wolf then anymore than she did now, but, she knew if there was one thing ConFed took seriously was keeping people alive to get information back to them, one reason Zannah had stayed alive to collect so many paychecks from them. If she didn't trust the Intel Winnie, she'd trust the techs that installed the new widget, along with all the others.

She smiled gently as she pulled back, on her throttle to slow the Windrider down for the jump, well, even if it was a little exciting she was getting paid quite well for this job, now she'd collect.

Just as the Jump Drive kicked in though, a shrill warble announced a destroyer rising from the moon of the sixth planet. It couldn't catch her in time to stop her, but it knew what Jump Point she was using, and those, where she was going, and it would be able to chase her easily. Maybe this wasn't going to be so easy after all...

"Oh Damn..." was all she was able to say before the Jump Drive shot her across thousands of light years, though not quite to safety yet.


	3. Chapter 3

_TCS FELIX_ (DDG-526)  
ON PATROL,  
REGILI TARSUS SYSTEM  
GEMINI SECTOR FRONT LINES  
1438 HOURS, CST  
OCTOBER 12 2565

Commander Marcuso 'Marc' Xaiver watched the letter from his parents scroll by on hi terminal. He was in quite honest, surprised that the thing had reached him. The _Felix_ was on a patrol out of Naval Station McArthur for the last month, slowly coasting from system to system with her drives powered down, her scanner array turned up to its maximum settings to detect anything on the edges of its range. Normally this sort of work was done by an entire Cruiser-Destroyer group, known in ConFleet parlance as a CRUSDESGRU, cruising through the system daring the Cats, or any pirates for that mater, to show their muzzles. Unfortunately, Gemini sector was not the most important of front lines for the Confederation. Where in Enigma and Vega sectors CRUSDESGRUs prowled about spoiling for a fight, in Gemini, they were kept close to the precious fleet battle carriers of the 5th and 14th Battle Fleets.

On paper, or should it be said on file, since paper was a rarity in the 26th century, Gemini Sector Command was a powerful command, counting two battle fleets, eight carrier task forces, and six CRUSDESGRUs to its name, along with all the unattached ships always so universal in a sector command. In reality however, Gemini was the largest of the three front line sectors, spreading the Sector Command's assets rather thin. Many times ConFleet actually relied on privateers, a strange combination of merchant and mercenary, to get smaller assignments done while leaving the larger assets to fight the major battles.

So, the _TCS Felix_, newest of the _Southampton_-class torpedo destroyer, one of the most advanced ships in the entirety of ConFleet, was on picket patrol instead of with a carrier battlegroup, her advanced sensors being put to a important, if somewhat boring use in the assigned mission.

Of coarse, Marc thought to himself, it could also be her commanding officer that got her this posting. At Twenty-five, Marc was on the extreme young side of capital ship commanders. Where Starfighter Command was a brutal battleground where much, if not most of the Star Wing and squadron commanders were in their twenties, Line Fleet was a bit different. In Starfighter Command when a fighter went up, you lost one, at the most six people if it were a Broadsword attack bomber. That made holes in the command structure open up, and those that were qualified, whatever the age, were promoted. With the Line Fleet, if a ship was destroyed, even money was the entire crew went with it before they could make it to the escape capsules. This lent to the old pre-war hierarchy of older officers remaining pretty much the same, since unless all the senior officers over you died giving you a chance to prove your skill, you'd have to work your way up the hard way.

Of coarse Marc thought morbidly, he would have to be 'lucky' enough to get that chance. Chief Weapons Officer aboard he _TCS Cairo_, the entire command staff had been smeared when a Kilrathi _Grikha_ heavy fighter kamakazied into the bridge, destroying it. Marc, who had been in the Combat Information Center, or CIC, had been spared. In the entire fight after the bridge was gone, _Cairo_ had acquitted herself spectacularly, adding two Kilrathi destroyers to her score card. It was clear that it was Marc's skill as a capital ship commander that had kept the battered ship alive, so at the next opportunity, while _Cairo_ was in dock to repair all her damage, he was given command of the Felix.

Unfortunately, even in wartime there were idiotic prejudices in the military. Marc ran afoul of one of them, what was known among the younger destroyer skippers as the 'old gray line,' high ranking destroyer officers who wanted nothing to do with the younger commanders just now starting to make their appearance. So, someone had cut orders for the _Felix_ to go to Gemini, most likely so he wouldn't be in the way or some other such nonsense.

"Captain, CIC," a voice brought him out of his wanderings as he tapped his comm. panel. A tradition from days long past, the commander of a vessel, no matter what his rank, would be known as 'captain' as soon as he stepped onto the deckplates.

"This is the Captain."

"Sir, we just had something real funny show up on the long ranged passive radiation scanners. Looked like two Jump-exit flares, real close to each other. They were coming from a Jump Point into Cat territory sir."

Marc frowned as he reached for his dark blue uniform shirt slipping it on and tucking it into the matching pants. It was actually a variant of the old United States Navy 'khaki' uniform, ConFleet had used it for centuries, if it worked, why try to fix it? "I'll be there in a moment."

"Aye sir."

Within minutes Marc was in Felix's CIC. The lighting was a darkened blue, mostly washing over the personnel manning stations from the large situation display that dominated the compartment. This was where he preferred to command his ship, rather than up on the bridge. He had much more information here than there, and relaying of helm orders was no slower than if he were on the bridge.

"What is it Mick?" the fox asked as he approached the lieutenant handling the watch.

"Two jump flares all right, no doubt about it, first one was time stamped about 1432 hours, the next, less than two minutes afterwards.

That caused Marc to raise his eyebrows at the Kelpie standing watch. "Is someone suicidal today?" Because of the vagaries of Jump Drives and the fact that Jump Points were actually shifting in space a minute amount almost constantly, two minutes was considered the safety margin on Jumps to keep from materializing back into normal space inside another ship, causing a rather large, and fatal detonation.

"Looks like it sir, my money's on a couple of idiotic privateers that are trying to get an adrenaline rush."

Marc looked at the situation display, it showed only one track, classified unknown along with a course plot from the Jump Point. "No ID yet on the track?"

Lieutenant Conners shook his head. "No sir..."

Before he could finish his statement the track icon shifted from the pail yellow of 'unidentified' to the harsh red of 'hostile.' "I have it Captain, contact is a Kilrathi _Ralathi_-class destroyer. She's firing her weapons sir!" a petty officer manning the sensor console called out as he hunched over her station.

"Firing, firing at what?" Lieutenant Conners said in confusion. "Sensors is he firing at us?"

"Negative, we're out of range sir; I don't think he knows we're here."

Conners just looked in confusion. "Has he gone space happy?"

Marc looked at the board. "You said two Jump Flashes?"

That one caused the young lieutenant to wince. "Aye sir, so there might be someone we can't see."

Marc didn't like that, Felix had the best sensors that could be packed into a hull her size. "Mr. Conners, bring us to battle stations please." He turned to the chair specially set aside for him and touched a control. "Engineering, bring the mains online, we're going to full burn.

"Aye sir," the voice called out from engineering as the blaring warning klaxon of battle stations sounded as the CIC was lit with a deep red hue."

"Shields charged."

"Damage Control reporting in all stations manned Captain."

"Main batteries are energized, target solution plotted on cells one through four for torpedoes sir!"

Marc nodded as other reports came in, waiting for the last announcement to finished before he sat in the command chair. "Helm bring us about, intercept course, Engineering, full power to the mains."

"Aye sir!" the voices from engineering and the bridge called out as the plot representing the Felix on the situation board healed over.

Marc watched the count, frowning, what was it that the destroyer was firing at. He couldn't see another ship..."

"Sensors, are we picking anything else up other than the _Ralathi_?"

"No ships sir, just some space debris, looks like the remains of a ship that mustuv' missed jumped."

Marc blinked. "Sensors display the debris."

The young petty officer manning the sensors looked quizzically but obeyed, and a yellow blob appeared on the screen. Marc frowned, yes, it could have just been debris, but the _Ralathi_ was firing right at it.

"Weps, time to range?"

"One minute thirty seconds sir!" the lieutenant looking over the shoulders of the three weapon enlisted men called out. "Now getting solutions on all cells for torpedo launch!"

Marc nodded, then turned to his sensors again. "Ping him, ping him real hard."

Again the collie at sensors blinked but did as ordered, her fingers flying across her console as she brought _Felix's_ powerful suite of active sensors online. She focused the space that the sensors would scan to the area where the _Ralathi_ was and tapped the 'active' command.

The active sensor suite aboard _Felix_ came to life in an instant. Powerful enough to scan hundreds of thousands of kilometers around the Felix's position, focusing the scan on one bearing brought all the power to bear on a single point. Sarcastically known as 'pinging' from the days of submarine combat, the active pulse served in essence as a warning most times to anyone to wave off. If close enough it could actually blind the passive detection arrays of many ships, and fry the electronics aboard a starfighter. In this situation, it served a third purpose.

"Sir!!! _Centurion_-class vessel in the... wait _it_ was the debris field sir!! It must have one heck'ava sensor baffling system on it, it confused the heck out'a my passives. That's what the _Ralathi_ is firing on sir!!!"

"Well, that explains something," Conner said in surprise. "Now would someone please explain why that ship is here and getting shot at?"

"Sir the _Ralathi's_ changing coarse, she's coming to bear on us! I think we got its attention with that ping!"

Marc nodded, that had been one of the things he had hoped to accomplish with the ping. "Weps? Time to fire?"

"We are in range captain!"

"Shoot, cells one through four, ready five through eight for a second volley, bring point defense online and set to Armageddon."

"Aye sir!! Firing!!!"

Through the deckplates all aboard the _Felix_ felt four successive shudders as four long, slim Mark VIII ship-board torpedoes were kicked free of the vertical launch cells they had been stored in by a 'kick' engine before their primary drives lit off, arcing over onto an intercept coarse for the Kilrathi destroyer. Different from the Mark VI torpedoes carried by starfighters, the Mk VIIIs used the sensor suit aboard the firing ship for terminal guidance instead of their own computer brain, dispensing with the need to slow for a attack run. While it might have seemed that the Mk VIIIs would have made starfighters obsolete, torpedo destroyers and cruisers simply did not carry enough of them to make prolonged strikes practical. Also they had to fire at a greater range than starfighter torpedoes, giving ships much greater time to react.

"One through four away and running nominal!!!" Weapons called out. "Time to impact, twenty seconds."

Marc looked at the display track, simply nodding his response to his officer as he watched the four bright orange arrows representing his torpedoes streaking towards _Ralathi_. As they were about halfway to their target, a series of angry red blips appeared on the screen racing away from the _Ralathi_.

"Enemy torpedo launch!!!"

"Helm bring us to port twenty degrees," Marc ordered. While that gave the Kilrathi weapons officer's the best look at the _Felix_, it gave his point defense systems the best shot.

"Torpedoes one and three intercepted!!!" weapons called out as two of the _Felix's_ torpedoes disappeared, leaving the others to continue on, impacting the _Ralathi_. "Direct hits on two and four sir! She's coming too port. Point defense is now firing!!!"

Though he couldn't feel it Marc new that two of the four dual mass gatling mounts mounted on either side of the _Felix's_ superstructure were going into action. Based on the same principle as the ancient Phalanx system of the 20th century, the mounts purpose was to spray as much mass into space as possible, hoping that it would detonate the incoming missiles.

_Felix_ was luckier than the _Ralathi_, it was able to intercept two of the three torpedoes fired at it before the last impacted against the shields, setting of its anti-matter warhead, shoving Felix to port before the attitude control thrusters took hold. "Damage report!!"

"Shields at 65 percent, hull plating holding, minor fluctuations on power grids with deck three and five sir!"

"Weps fire cells five through eight."

"Five through eight away!" Weapons called out as four more shudders were felt. This time the Kilrathi didn't even try to shoot them down, either she was already dead in space, or her point defense systems were damaged. In moments, it didn't matter, the track phased out as Felix's torpedoes struck the _Ralathi_. "Target destroyed sir!!!"

There was a cheer from the crew, their first real engagement, and it had been a winning one. Marc nodded and looked across his CIC. "Damage Control secure the ship, Sensors get a lock on that _Centurion_ so Weps can pull him in on the tractors, I want to talk to whoever it was that got the Cats upset enough to send a destroyer after them."

After hearing the chorus of 'aye sirs' Marc left CIC heading for the tiny docking bay, sure he wanted to be there when whoever it was they just saved showed their muzzle.


	4. Chapter 4

DOCKING BAY  
TCS FELIX (DDG-526)  
REGALIA SYSTEM  
1444 HOURS CST  
OCTOBER 12, 2565

Marc frowned as he floated in the small docking bay of the _Felix_. It was the only place aboard without gravity generators installed in the decks. Mostly it was used as a place for the crew to indulge in zero-g recreation since _Felix_ only carried one small shuttle for Marc's use in port. Now though the nul-grav racquetball players would have to wait, mainly because the _Centurion_ engulfed the entire bay. There was only inches between its wingtips and the bulkheads, Marc didn't even want to think about the heart-attack his tractor operator had had getting the blasted thing in here.

Right now though, the _Centurion_ itself wasn't the problem, it was her owner. Marc floated down next to the Gunnery Sergeant that lead the small marine detachment aboard Felix, the bull mastiff looked like the poster-boy for Marine drill instructors everywhere. The buzz cut and, well honestly ugly face complemented the picture that really only needed the ancient campaign cap to be complete.

"What's going on Gunny?"

"The owner won't come out Marc," Gunny said with a frown as he easily maneuvered in zero-g, as if he were born to live in it. His voice betrayed the intelligence in the man, not many knew the veteran held a doctorate in military history. Gunnery Sergeant William Weeds was the only person aboard, let alone officer that could get away with calling Marc by his first name on duty. The experienced jarhead had been the instructor for most of Marc's physical fitness and basic marksmanship training at the academy.

Marc frowned, and looked for the external entry key system. As luck would have it, this one was a military grade tri-stage bio-metrics lock with an alpha-numeric combination, thumbprint reader and retinal scanner. Any two could be broken fairly easily with ConFed equipment but all three together made things quite different. "well this is going to be interesting."

"We can always get a can opener Marc," Gunny responded, referring to the hull cutter most often used for force entry by Marines.

Marc was about to say something but was cut off by the hissing snap of a hatch popping open and a blur flying out. Marc admittedly had not taken well to Zero G combat training and before he could understand what happened, he had his buk to his marines, with a rather pretty fox pointing a medium laser pistol at his chest as he shielded her own body. "Touch my ship with a can-opener and you get fried...." She smiled, obviously she had been waiting for him, or atleast someone of higher rank than gunny to be around.

"Lady you fry him an' my boys'll burn you to cinders just on principle, then take your ship apart in spite and malice," Gunny said as he leveled his own heavy laser pistol on the woman as the marines leveled their rifles, a little miffed that they had been caught off guard.

"Gunny... no offense, but your solution means I'm dead..." Marc said and turned to the woman, who's raven black hair formed a halo about her in zero-g. "and I suspect that, you don't like the idea of being turned into free-floating atoms any more than I do, so, why don't we drop the pretenses."

"She frowned at him, but her face, if not her eyes and gun hand, relaxed. "all right, we'll play this your way."

Marc nodded, suspecting she had wanted to talk to the 'boss' of the ship the entire time, and he knew Gunny wouldn't have let her if she just popped the hatch on her ship and said 'high.' "Commander Marc Xavier, captain of the TCS Felix."

The woman looked at him before responding. "Zannah Lyles...."

"Aw bloody... I should'a known, a privateer," Gunny spat out."

"So?" Zannah shot back.

:So, why don' you have the guts to sign up and fight for something more than money freelancer..."

"Gunny...." Marc said, keeping his eyes on Zannah. "I don't think this is a good time to air your thoughts on privateers."

"I, er, aye aye sir," Gunny responded, he never called Marc by his first name around anyone other than the crew.

Marc nodded. "All right, mind telling me why you were jumping in from Cat territory, with a Ralathi rather eager to turn you into sub-atomic paste?"

She fround. "One of you Confies hired me for a quick little SigInt mission, unfortunately he neglected to tell me that it was at the Cat Gemini Sector command post."

"What? That's six jumps from here! At the most!" Gunny exclaimed.

"Not if you use that pirate point, shifts between twelve different locations at random, I was lucky I popped up in this system."

"Apparently so, and whatever you were carrying the Ralathi wanted you dead for it."

"Well, I was in-system for about sixteen hours, donno what all I picked up, got my computers running over it right now."

Marc nodded. "let me guess, you were heading for New Scotland?"

She smiled at him slyly. "How did you ever guess?"

Marc sighed, then floated to a com panel. "Bridge, this is the captain, make for the Jump to New Scotland, best safe speed."

"Aye sir."

"Well, at the very least I am going to get paid now."

"I for one, would like to know what the heck is aboard those documents the Cats wanted so badly," Marc returned to her.

"Well, we'll find out in about four days, that's how long it'll take my computer to decrypt and translate, assuming the Cats haven't switched crypto-systems again."

"And that's about as long as it will take for us to make it to New Scotland," Marc said with a nod, knowing his own computer core was not set up for cryptography work. "all right, we'll take you back, and find out what the heck is going on."

IKV _KRO'LA'ATH_

K'LRATH SYSTEM  
GEMINI SECTOR FRONT LINES  
1542 HOURS, CONFEDERATE STANDARD TIME (CST)  
OCTOBER 12th 2565AD

Sher frowned as he felt the thump of the _Kro'la'ath_ break its moorings and drift free just before her massive main drives lit off to push her free of the station. He let a small, almost unnoticeable smile trace his tiger features. The crew had performed the task of breaking station with every efficiency that his flag ship should have. All ready the _Khantahr_ of the ship was snapping crisp, concise orders to put the ship on course for the jump out system. Sher knew Lord _Khantahr_ _narr_ I'vara well, and knew that those orders were not simply to show off to his superior. The puma-looking Kilrathi had not earned command of one of the greatest carriers in the Imperial Fleet by being a lording commander. He was a strict, proud disciplinarian who drilled his crew till they only thing the dreamt about was not their lifemates, but the ship, sailing and fighting her as one of the fiercest weapons in the fleet. That was why Sher had chosen this ship as his flag ship. J'kra was actually a larger vessel, but so impressed with the _Kro'la'ath's_ crew that he decided to grace them with his presence while underway.

"M'lord?" the young Larhss said as he bowed to his commander. Sher had taken a liking to the young officer, he had backbone, and would make a fine ship-commander one day, if he did not run afoul of the Prince and his senile grandfather. Sher needed an aid on this mission, so he had chosen the Lynx.

"Yes _narr_ T'creal?"

"Lord, H'rath has not reported in through hyper-pulse. Intelligence believes she was lost."

Sher frowned. "Her captain was a fool if he lost his ship to a mere picket vessel..." Sher growled. "This adds a complication, but one not so difficult to surmount. Is Intelligence online?"

"Yes M'Lord, they are trying to determine if the picket ship had any data of importance to the mission."

Sher waved his paw. "Do not have them bother, we must assume the canines have the launch orders, but, if we can deluge them with information..."

"M'Lord?"

Sher gave a feral smile. "One thing you must learn, present your enemy with what he wants to see, and he will ignore the truth. I want intelligence leaking reports of the striking hand moving through all sectors of space, provide the strongest evidence on the most plausible routes towards their systems, give some evidence to our real coarse, but make it look so undesirable that it would seem a fools mission to pursue."

The lynx nodded. "Yes M'lord."

"Sher waved him off and thought as he watched the stars, yes, this would play into his claws better than his original plan. He would move the canine striking hands out of position, and swipe their logistics out from under them while they were leaning to pounce in a different direction. Excellent. He knew he would have this sector soon.

CONFEDERATION GEMINI SECTOR COMMAND  
NEW SCOTLAND  
GEMINI SECTOR FRONT LINES  
1234 HOURS, CST  
OCTOBER 16, 2565 AD

Zannah frowned as she walked the corridors of Naval Station Portsmouth, the major base facility planet side of New Scotland. Her mood was not a cheery one, especially after reading the decrypted orders from the Kilrathi sector command. They were on the move. An entire strike fleet on the move.

Of coarse, NSP didn't make her feel any better, she heard the screeching roar of a RF-44B Ferret recon fighter doing a full burn 'combat' take off even through the heavily constructed walls of fleet intelligence. Sounded like some hot shot pilot was showing off from the sound of things as she shook her head. She wondered how many of these brats had actually seen combat. The equipment around NSP and the accompanying Naval Aerospace Station Boyington, the fighter base that was the main ground-side servicing and refit center for the ships in orbit above, was slip shod at the best. Oh, everything looked wonderful, immaculately clean and gleaming but one of the F-45A _Rapier_ space superiority fighters she had seen coming in had a drive mis-alignment that could be heard for miles, and this building looked like it had seen more coats of paint than repair lately.

She shook it off as she continued to walk, she had information to deliver. "You didn't have to come along commander," She said as she looked at mark, wearing a fresh set of blues neatly cleaned and pressed.

"Actually I did, I was the senior ConFleet officer present during your mission, granted it was at the end of that mission but..."

Zannah simply sighed. "whatever, lets get this over with so I can get my money."

Marc nodded as he opened a door marked with the announcement "CONFLEET INTELLIGENCE, LT. GERRINGER." It surprised Marc that the head of Sector Intelligence was only a Lieutenant, but, he had seen stranger things in ConFleet.

However, it was also apparent that they were not the only ones to see the Lieutenant. "Lieutenant Gerringer I believe you are taking too light the advanced reports transmitted by the _TCS Felix_," a dignified voice with a strange accent said in controlled, even tones as the two stopped at the outer office. The door was wide open though the yeoman who sat mere trying to avoid seeming to wince than anything else motioned for them to sit down rather than enter.

"And I do not care what you think _Admiral_." A far less controlled voice returned. "I have enough on my plate without a runner bringing in wild claims, look at the fleet dispositions that are being reported by my field operatives! Operatives that I must remind you, _Admiral_, are duly enlisted members of the Confederation Armed Forces, not some mercenary."

"A Privateer you yourself hired Lieutenant Gerringer. One also that you put into harms way by refusing to provide her the information of her target system."

"That was need to know information Admiral."

"I would suspect Lieutenant that she needed to know. Do you know the dangers of Jumping blind?"

"Don't lecture me Admiral. If she would have been captured then she could have blown an entire intelligence operation. As is she tipped the blasted Cats off to the fact that we know about the Pirate Points into their Sector command!!!"

"Lieutenant, did you really expect sending a craft into that system would not divulge that information."

"If done properly she wouldn't!"

"Then at least give her the respect of not throwing her information away out of hand Lieutenant."

"Don't lecture me Admiral. Do you know why you command the oldest carrier out here, in the least important sector of this war? Its because your not fit to command a task force of _plastic models on your ready room desk!!!_ Now get out of my office!!!!"

That last eruption caused the young fox-terrier yeoman to wince, and wince hard. However, instead of stalking out like Marc and Zannah expected the owner of the cultured voice to do, a English setter, strong back, tall and slim, wearing the white un-dress uniform of a ConFleet Admiral, the rank of Vice Admiral on his shoulders, walked out evenly, a measured, calm, military step in his bearing, his posture not one of anger, in fact, his poise and bearing didn't seem all that right for a flag officer who had actually just been dressed down by a junior officer. The one thing that both noticed was the gleaming golden wings set just above the Admiral's rather impressive 'salad bowl' of ribbons, signifying he was a starfighter pilot.

Standing in the corner, until then surprisingly unnoticed by either Zannah or Marc, a tall, broad spitz mix in a starfighter pilot's duty uniform wearing the dark blue beret that many wore when out of their flight suits took up position at the English setters side, not saying a word as he walked out with him at a respectful pace or so behind the Admiral.

"Lansing get those two misanthropes in my office now!!!" the un-calm voice calle out and the young petty officer yeoman nodded at the two, who stood and entered the inner office as a tall, rather rakishly handsome, and immaculately groomed wolf looked at them. "I suppose your hear to collect your money Lyles?"

Zannah frowned, stepped up, slapped a data chip on his desk and not so much hit the wolf, but nearly snapped his entire head around with the punch she leveled on him. "That! Was for giving me a blind jump into a Cat system!"

The wolf growled back at her. "Thank you Lyles, but you didn't need to know where you were going." He tossed a card on the table. "There is your pay, minus twenty percent of course."

"What?!?"

"You were detected leaving the system, giving away vital information; I am docking your pay for your ineptitude."

"There was no possible way I could sneak out of that system without being detected!"

"There is always a way Lyles, you were just stupid enough to choose the way that cost us valuable information."

"What about the information I nearly died for!"

"Irrelevant."

"Excuse me Lieutenant, I think it is far from irrelevant information, those are departure orders for an entire strike fleet."

"An entire strike fleet that is heading for New Scotland Commander Xavier," Gerringer said turning and giving the captain of the _Felix_ an icy stare. "I didn't need here botched mission to tell me that. I wish I would have known before I sent this incompetent runner on that mission, but it is too late now."

"How did you know we were brining evidence of a fleet putting to space?" Marc asked.

"I didn't, but I have been deluged with reports of that fleet you saw, its moving through the sector rather fat and dumb, just like the Cats."

"Lieutenant?"

"Sigma Four's outpost reported an entire wave of picket ships jumping in, along with several other confirmed, reliable reports of the fleet's movements, I don't need your reports.

"But what about the other information..."

"In consequential, dump it from the _Felix's_ data core."

"Excuse me..."

"I said dump it! That is an order _Commander_!! From ConFleet Intelligence. Now get out of my office!"

it was obvious the lieutenant wasn't going to listen to any more as he turned back to the holo-map he was viewing, stabbing a caller. "Get me Admiral Fuentes, Pauler and vanAragon, do not, I repeate do not request Admiral Rikes, he is never to be in my office again without an express appointment."

Marc blinked frowned, and tried to keep cool at the rebuke by the lower rank officer, who apparently believed he ran the entirety of the secotr as they walked out. Zannah, on the other hand, simply growled as she didn't bother to hide her emotions. "Damned fool, he's going to get people killed...."


End file.
